


Liaison

by MayhemHeart



Series: The Spy Who Vexed Me [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 007 Mycroft, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Gif Inspired, I have no shame, Link included, M/M, Mentor Mycroft Holmes, Mystrade Monday, Rookie Agent Lestrade, Younger Greg Lestrade - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayhemHeart/pseuds/MayhemHeart
Summary: Mystrade Monday # 11“If I die, I'm never speaking to you again.”
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: The Spy Who Vexed Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971670
Comments: 15
Kudos: 123





	Liaison

**Author's Note:**

> [Based on a gifset I made with undercover spy Mycroft & Greg ](https://thesilverapplesofthemoon.tumblr.com/post/629941114167820288/i-made-another-one-credit-goes-to) and it kinda expanded from there. Only in this 'verse, Mycroft doesn't take Greg up on his offer (that might come later if I expanded upon this prompt)
> 
> All mistakes mine.

"Agent Lestrade, **if I die, I'm never speaking to you again."** Mycroft hisses in the shorter man's ear, his body pressing along the rookie agent's back. They are currently hiding in the darknesses of a filthy alleyway, bodies heaving as they struggle to catch their breaths. It was _not_ how their night was supposed to go. In and out, no fuss, no _complications_. Mycroft was supposed to be back home by now enjoying a hot cup of tea and not pressed against the most vexing man he knew. He can feel each inhalation Lestrade takes and smell his bergamot and cedarwood cologne enhanced by adrenaline and sweat. It makes his mouth water. 

"Calm down, Holmes, I promise to protect you," Greg shoots a smirk over his shoulder and touches his forehead slightly in mock salute. 

Mycroft looks down at the cheeky grin, directed his way, and clenches his jaw, "I fail to find the _humor_ in this, agent," he snaps. 

"Look," Greg sighs, "I know you didn't want to get stuck with _me_ , but you are. I already apologized for the Sugar Daddy thing ages ago, but you have to admit my idea worked in the end. We have never failed a mission. Would it kill you to have a little faith in me?"

Mycroft closes his eyes with a silent groan. It had been their first mission together, and while he knew of Lestrade's reputation to ignore mission parameters, he had hoped the rumors had been overstated. They were not. Instead of going with the planned business partner's cover, Lestrade had to go and suggest to their mark that they were engaging in an unconventional relationship. To Mycroft's chagrin, it had worked better than his initial plan, and they were able to take down the whole smuggling ring in record time.

To make matters worse, Lestrade had suggested they have sex to pull off the charade with a straight face and a nonchalant tilt of his head. In the end, Mycroft had scoffed at that idea and told the rookie agent that not only would it have been highly inappropriate, but he would have to document any coitus in their post-op debrief and he was _not_ going to do that. 

The real issue that Mycroft refuses to think about too closely was that he had wanted to. _Lord_ , how he craves to crowd Lestrade against the nearest wall and wipe that infuriating self-satisfied smirk off his face. In the year since, they had been partnered for almost all of their missions. _Higher success rate and exceptional adaptability_ were the excuses Alicia gave him every time he voiced a complaint. 

The small shift in Lestrade's frame has Mycroft opening his eyes, mind back to the present. "The past is in the past," Mycroft whispers through gritted teeth, "the issue is that this was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission, and once again, you have decided to go off-script-"

"Hey," Greg interrupts with a frown and turns around to face him properly, "I thought you just said the past is in the past."

Mycroft rolls his eyes, and Greg continues, his finger poking into Mycroft's chest, "besides, you _know_ we would never have had another chance to access the database this easily. It was now or never, Holmes."

Mycroft wants to argue, but the small encrypted USB hidden inside his jacket pocket weighs heavily. He knows the information on the remote device will help bring down an entire underground criminal system. A huge part of him is so proud of Lestrade and his brilliant instincts and ingenuity, but he is still furious. He's angry and maybe a little in love with the unpredictable agent, and that is so not what he should be thinking about right now. 

"That is beside the point, Lestrade," Mycroft scolds, "I am your _partner_ , and you continuously act upon rash judgments without thought to the consequences you may bring upon us."

"Us?" Greg laughs, "I was the only one in danger, you were perfectly safe- _oh_ ," Mycroft sees the moment the defiance reflecting in Lestrade's chestnut eyes shift into something softer, something more seductive. "Agent Holmes," Greg purrs with smug delight and bats his dark eyelashes in mock coyness, "Were you worried about me?"

Mycroft snubs the memory of how his heart had lodged itself in his throat, seeing Lestrade grapple with the beefy security guard before gaining the upper hand. Sentiment is not advantageous; his mind echoes the past mantra. He opens his mouth to reply with a frank dismissal when he hears the sounds of heavy feet upon asphalt. 

"I think he went this way," a gruff voice calls out dangerously close. 

Mycroft's wide, panicked eyes meet Greg's. Oh, he was _never_ going to speak to Lestrade again. Mycroft has about two seconds to deduce the look forming on Lestrade before the younger man grips his face, whispering harshly. "Bloody, trust me for once." 

And Mycroft, God help him, does. 

Greg crushes their mouths together in a frantic, desperate kiss, one hand sliding to the back of Mycroft's neck, holding him still. Mycroft gives a soft moan, and he's shocked by his enthusiastic response to the touch of the younger man's lips. A whole year of repressed yearning, finally being expressed into a single embrace. His body melts into the velvet warmth of Greg's lips against his. 

By the time the heavy footsteps reach their location, Mycroft's hands are cupping Greg's arse, pulling him against his body, and Greg's fingers tangle in his hair. The sounds of their wet kisses and soft groans drown out the embarrassed surprise of the criminal footmen. There is a stuttered, "let's keep looking," before they are finally alone again. 

Greg pulls back, voice wrecked as he asks, "Will this be going into your debrief?"

"Absolutely fucking not," Mycroft breathes, his hand presses under Greg's chin, turning the other agent up towards him before sliding their lips together for another demanding taste.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr ](https://thesilverapplesofthemoon.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
